


Feelings Are Just Like The Weather

by Medikitty



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Drunken Shenanigans, Gay Male Character, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts, Unexpected attraction, i guess?, mentions of John and Arthur together, one night stand...kinda, passion play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-16 05:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18514525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medikitty/pseuds/Medikitty
Summary: "You Americans and your piss liquid, how do you survive off this rubbish! I suppose it matters not—""—So long as it gets the job done!" Arthur finished his sentence with a snort. He removed his battered hat and set it down, one hand reaching up to ruffle the dusty brown locks of disheveled hair. Charles leaned in close as he polished his own glass. "Oui, Yes! Exactly that. Which brings up something...""If it's another one of your crazy art shows—"It was not.





	1. For the sake of ART

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless fling I have for Charles and Arthur. I loved their side missions and odd friendship they created, I wanted to contribute to it :)

**"** Arthur?! Is that you, Mon cher ami? ** " **   
  
The cowboy swung down another shot, preparing for the worst until the strange dialect  _... that French right?_  —  reached his ears.  Turning in his seat at Doyle's saloon, those clover green eyes followed after the familiar voice until they met with a glistening tawny pair.   
  
The gunslinger was already whipped up warm from the swigs of whiskey and sips of brandy when the Frenchman appeared.  He wanted to forget, forget many things—  perhaps everything?  At least this evening would be nice.  The swamp seemed to be making Dutch's judgment as muggy as the humidity.

  
  
**"** I ain't understand a word you say, friend. **"**   
  
**"** Ah, No matter let me join you.  It's not often I come across a charming face as your own—  unless I look at the mirror of course!  Please my good man, two rounds for mi mon ami and I! ** " **

  
  
Arthur chuckled and shook his head.  He wished to forget, and the world had a funny way of granting it.  A smile tugged at his lips in amusement by the artists' narcissism, even if there may be a truth to it.

 

**"** Charming is far off my friend but perhaps after a few more drinks. **"** ****   
  
The Frenchmen laughed and selected a seat next to him adding, **"** Bah!  Being a whole-ass over my artistic sights I can see it! **"**   
  
Grabbing the drink, Charles Châtenay took a huge swig before wincing as the golden liquor plummeted down his throat with a scornful burn commenting,    
  
**"** You Americans and your piss liquid, how do you survive off this rubbish!  I suppose it matters not— **"**     
  
**"** — So long as it gets the job done! **"**  Arthur finished his sentence with a snort.  He removed his battered hat and set it down, one hand reaching up to ruffle the dusty brown locks of disheveled hair.  Charles leaned in close as he polished his own glass.  "Oui, Yes!  Exactly that.  Which brings up something... " 

  
**"** If it's another one of your crazy art shows— ** " **   
  


Arthur began glancing over at his drinking companion a moment to see a dramatic eye-roll. The artist requested a shot of something Arthur couldn't pronounce before he quipped in response,

  
**"** No, no no.  Though that was not of my doing.  Looks like you Americans can't seem to appreciate the female as a whole, in her true goddess form.  I merely wanted to bring enlightenment!  However, I want to make it up to you... ** " **

 

The Gunslinger rested on his elbows, eyes beginning to blear.  They lingered on the tawny pupils that shone like the shade of honey whiskey against the murky lights of the saloon.  They popped against the dark eye makeup lining under his eyes.  It was no wonder every wealthy man in Saint Denis had a gun out for him.  His mind fogged with thoughts he knew better than to linger on but this evening he set for himself.  What he did with his drunken hours of stupidity was his choosing.   
  
With John making amends with Abigail again, the outlaw was left to his own devices, which wasn't much—  if anything.

  
**"** Mmmm, your skin is paler than last I saw you mon chere, though I can make do.  It will complement the red in your complexion here **"** Charles murmured more to himself than to Arthur a gentle hand trailing along his cheekbone.  Instinctively Arthur dipped his head, a habit to obscure his face underneath the brim of a hat, but his hat was not there.

  
**"** What are you goin' on about? **"**  Arthur rumbled lowly.  He didn't shy away from the touch but wasn't being easily swayed either.  Despite knowing with the artist's charismatic personality, he was bound to get roped into another adventure.

  
**"** A male figure of course!  If art can be unappreci ated with the females form in America than why not a males?!  Not as pleasing to the eyes but with the right picking an elegant piece can be made!  Now Come!  I am convinced! — ** " **

  
**"** Ay!  W-what? Wait hold on now!  Charles! **"**  The gunslinger stammered, unsure of where this was going or what the hell he was talking about.  The Frenchman had been halfway to the door before he looked back to the outlaw stumbling down from the stool pointing at him trying to balance himself.   
  
_'How endearing.'_ Charles mused.

  
Leaving a small clip of money on the bar, the shorter man seized Arthurs hat and plopped it onto his head.  He linked an arm around the others to support him walking out without too many eyes lifting to their commotion.  **"** I told you I wanted to do something for you, Mr. Morgan, **"** Charles said insistently as he pulled the other along adding mischievously,   
  
**"** I make it worth your while. **"**

 

**"** By paintin' me?  What makes you thin— **"**     
  
**"** Oh no—  well yes, but there's more. I can not say until we are back to my quarters. There's something there I think that will be suitable payment for my...  what did you name it?  My crazy?  hah!  Oh you!  Such Retrouvailles! ** " **

  
Bumbling through alleyways and avenues, it didn't take long to reach the Frenchman home.  He looked around hesitantly before unlocking the door, dragging Arthur along by the arm. The gunslinger became more compliant as the whiskey settled into his system.  Charles was an amusing man, perhaps the diversion he was desperate for from his brain.   


**"** Ah here we are!  Allow me to take you up to my study, that has a perfect fireplace glow for the scenery!  and that's where your... bribery is. ** " **

  
Arthur followed clumsily up the steps, hazily trying to take in the details of the home.  There were numerous portraits and frames littering the floors, most of the décor rather feminine for his tastes but still nice to look at.  The study he stepped into consisted of different sized easels and the odor of oil pigments.  Lavish furnishings filled the space comfortably compared to the current camp his gang resided at.  Silk drapes and blankets enveloped the floors and chairs.   _So this is how it is to be an artist?_ _  Interesting. _

  
**"** Gogo sit on the Chaise, mon ami.  I need to collect some glasses **"** Charles said, waving at a rustic maroon colored lounge couch, its material soft like velvet.  Arthur sat comfortably in it regarding the other leave the room.

  
When the artist returned 2 fancy glasses with absurd looking spoons were in his hands.  He set them on a narrow coffee table in front of the gunslinger.  Rummaging in a nearby curio, the Frenchman gasped in victory before pulling up a chair near his companion, setting an ominous green bottle on the table.  It was as curiously shaped as the glasses, certainly nothing he chanced on.

  
**"** I ain't one for knowing fancy drinks but what the hell is all this? **"**

  
**"** This, Arthur, is your payment.  Your... naivety pleases me.  It will make this more valuable to you than you think. ** " **   
  


Arthur chuckled with a wide grin, **"** Sure **"**

  
**"** What is all this silly stuff anyways, Mr. Châtenay? **"**   
  
Charles chuckled, pulling over a tray that had a glass container and a pitcher of water.   **"** Silly he says.  Non. oh, just you wait.  This is... inspiration,  perhaps something worth convincing you to oblige to my favor.  Youknow I hate asking of so much without a proper repayment **.** **"**     
  
**"** Your repayment is ordinarily me prying you out of another mess you throw yourself in! **"**

  
  
**"** Ah well.... perhaps. ** " **

  
Arthur couldn't help but feel reminded of John and his sloppy endeavors.  The gunslinger heaved a sigh, seems he was drawn to the ones who needed saving when he, in fact, was the one who needed it most.   


The spoons were set carefully ontop of the glasses, the spoons were formed with designed holes through it.  Then reaching beyond, the artist grabbed the small container opening it to reveal sugar cubes.  He placed one cube on each spoon.   
  
**"** You have matches, oui? **"**   
  
**"** Er—  yeah, I do. ** " **   
  
**"** Very good.  Pull them out and get ready! **"** The man exclaimed.  Fumbling in his pockets, the gunslinger pulled out his matches trying not to lose his focus.  Charles had his curiosity piqued.  He had witnessed many odd experiments from scientists, but not one being sold for him.  He couldn't possibly fathom how he would want any of this.   
Grasping the green bottle by the neck, Charles popped the cork with ease as he poor its contents over each cube until the orb within the glass was filled.   
  
Arthurs brows knit together, the emerald color was the liquid itself, not the glass!  He was fascinated to say the least, never seeing a drink with such a rich color.

  
**"** Ready, Arthur?  Light a match and cast flame to the sugar cubes until they ignite.  Careful! ** " **

 

With a nod, Arthur sat up, striking a match to hover over the first sugar cube.  As soon as the first one lit, he pulled away quickly and then lit the second.  Charles clapped his hands in enthusiasm.   
  
"Oh it's been so long since i've had quality company!"   
  
The sugar cubes lit into bright gradients of lime greens and royal blues.  It was like observing magic as it protruded the pleasant aroma of sugar with exotic woodsy scents and an undertone of spice.  The gunslinger had seen many magnificent things in his days, but this was like sighting the northern lights for the very first time.  Whimsical.   
  
As the fire started to wane, Charles picked up the pitcher of water, pouring the clear contents into the glass until the cubes dissolved.   
  
**"** Ah, here we are!  Drink up! ** "  **   
  
**"** This is a drink?  Not just some magic trick? **"** Arthur slurred before ever so gingerly removing the spoon and lifting his own glass.  The fragrance of the alcoholic elixir lingered, filling his nostrils.  Taking a test taste, his brows shot up in surprise.  It was bitter, but not in an overpowering manner.  Hints of herbs and flowers played on his taste buds making the taste practically incomparable.

 

Châtenay only smiled, taking a generous gulp of his own.  His eyes never left the outlaw, his frame, his shimmering brilliant eyes that matched the color of the drink in question.  This was going to be fun and who knew what lie ahead.  He cared not for such simplicities.   
  
**"** I say this is a fine drink, my friend but what makes ya so damn convinced this will have me willing to be your... what?  Model? **"**  

  
  
**"** Mmmm.... How about we revisit that question  **after** you manage to finish the glass **mon loulou."**


	2. Daring to Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who has commented on this! I appreciate your feedback and to know I have made others happy with bringing out this lovely ship.
> 
> Disclaimer: (because for some reason it felt needed to be scornfully pointed out?) Yes the Absinthe technique portrayed in the story is not one they would have used in RDR2 time period. But this story is not stated as "historical fiction" and frankly, RDR2 has it's own inaccuracies as well. The drink was only a gateway from point A to point B and nothing more :)

**"** Ah...  come here, let me look at you.  I need to make sure you will be my perfect canvas! **"**  Charles exclaimed, the French accent thickening to his slurred words.  Getting up from his chair, the man meandered to join the infamous outlaw on the couch.  He leaned in close to him, intimately close examining the chiseled face with ruling eyes.  
  
Arthur swallowed with difficulty, looking at those golden eyes with hazy sights, lashes shadowing his pupils.  He reclined comfortably into the plush chaise, a fingerless gloved hand thoughtlessly gripping the well-groomed goatee.  A smirk played at his lips, whatever that drink was— it made everything feel.... _nice_.

  
**"** And what may it be, dare I ask you are lookin' for? **"**  Arthur grumbled bearing the other man in place, a single brow raised in query.  
The artist gave him a sinful simper, **"** Well let me look here... **"** A bold hand reached over, fingers tracing Arthur's jawline before grazing along the side of his muscled neck.  the skin was dampened by an anxious sweat.  
  
**"** A fine masculine jaw... though your facial hair could be cleaned up a tad but enough to express the rugged freedom this country was built on... **"**    
  
Each word dripped with lowering octaves, his body shifting so he sat on his knees, leaning over Arthur with a hand on the arm of the chair to keep himself hoisted up.  
Arthur smirked coyly, subconsciously tilting his head so those soft fingers trailed farther along his neck.

  
**"** You can find any damned fool on the street with that description, Charles. **"**  
  
**"** Ah but not with those eyes!  Those solemn eyes of wild sage.  Eyes that have seen many wars but not enough love... the impediment of beauty through tragedy. **"**  
Those exact eyes stared at him studying before there was a gentle hum, **"** For a folly artist ya' sure are more aware than you get on. **"**    
  
The artist chuckled in amusement before his wandering hand stopped at Arthurs button-down shirt. Tawny eyes bored into the green pair as he popped a button, then another until they reached the fabric of the vest that Arthur wore over it.

 

Arthur shifted, feeling warm, feeling stimulated. His mind for once didn't question or worry about the predicament he waltzed into— Perhaps _wanted_. It was hard to distinguish if it was the green liquor or his sense of care slowly slipping from all the strain he had to endure in the past months. Either way, he tugged at the smaller man's chin, urgingly. The man eagerly obeyed moving closer until he was essentially in the gunslinger's lap, the smirk of mischief never leaving his face. Taking advantage to the quiet invitation, Charles swung his leg over until he was straddling Arthur— not a hint of shame to it. Arthur swore quietly, that was the look of profound victory. 

 

 **"** Well damn, if that is what your after.. **"**  The gunslinger chuckled hearitly.  Suddenly he cut it off with a dramatic sigh adding, **"** but I hate to break it to ya'...  That womanly figure you are always chompin' at the bit for won't be found where your wanderin', friend. **"**  
  
Charles laughed yanking his face away from the gunslingers hold, his hands seizing hold of the lapels of Arthurs vest. Without skipping a beat, he knocked down the remaining bricks of the gunslingers' guard as he spontaneously crashed his lips onto the other mans. There had been a muffled sound of surprise before it was replaced with a reluctant groan.

   
Arthur never really considered himself to fancy men, not in this way at least.  He thought John was that one exception, that one male to counter his preference.  He fell head over heels for many women considered too good for him, even had a child with one.  And now?  Now he was winding an arm around the supple waist of a French womanizer who painted every woman he slept with and swore to the female's body. _'_ _Well aren't we just two peas in a pod'_ Arthur thought as his mouth excitedly reciprocated with more vigor into the kiss.  Charles pulled away enough to pant out a soft snicker.   **"** We all have our exceptions, Mr.Morgan. **"**  
  
**"** That we do Mr. Châtenay.  Have you finished your uh study for your next piece? **"**  
  
**"** Far from it, mon chere.  First, we finish these drinks.  I do not wish to waste them.  Then I'll be more than happy continue my critiques. **"**  
  
Arthur snorted out loud to their banter.  He took the glass that was handed back to him and finished it quickly, not that much was left before handing it back.  
Charles did the same then returned the glasses onto the table.  Arthur released the Frenchman and instead nestled himself into the furniture, his arms resting on the back of the couch.  He sat exposed to the artist, giving him an audacious gaze.    
  
**"** Shall you continue then, amigo? **"**    
  
**"** Mmmf—! **" A**  final swallow of the drink, **"** — with **_pleasure_**. **"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapter. It kind of wrapped itself up at a perfect point to start the real fun.
> 
> M rated Shenanigans ahead!~

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued~


End file.
